


A Soft Slaying

by SnowglobesWorks



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Second Kinslaying | Sack of Doriath, Singing, hc that all the feanorians fight with a firey aura around them, maedhros celegorm and caranthir are briefly mentioned too, maglor is technically the cause of caranthir's death oops :), people die it's the kinslaying fam, singing someone to death, who knew the kinslaying could be so soft?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 12:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19107364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowglobesWorks/pseuds/SnowglobesWorks
Summary: The second kinslaying from a random Doriathrin elf's point of view. Maglor is singing the whole time, and his song means death. Inspired by a quote from a groupchat I'm in:"Can you imagine how terrifying it would be to face off against him, but his eyes are glowing gently, he's singing, and every word he says slows your blade and speeds him up? Turns your weapons away and sinks into you, paralyzes you with fear, and lets him just cut you down? Orcs are terrified of him."





	A Soft Slaying

**Author's Note:**

> Elvish Time: Asca means hurry and Dina means be silent

The sound of singing grew in Ascadina’s ears. Who could that be? Who would be performing so sweetly about times long past and places of beauty amidst this tragedy, this slaying of kin?

The battle was far away, having not yet reached her corner of Doriath, and the area around her nearly deserted. She could hear the clash of steel on steel, the screams of the fallen. And above it all, the singing, carrying clear as a bell. It was getting to her, making her sway in time. She had to know where it was coming from.

Ascadina scaled a tree, nimbly leaping onto a nearby rooftop. In the distance, she spotted them. The Fëanorians, glowing brightly amongst the other elves. She spotted the tallest one, bright red hair whipping around him as he fought. She couldn’t tear her eyes away for a while, and a shiver ran from her toes to the tip of her head. When she finally gained the courage to look away from the tall one, she caught sight of another with glowing blonde hair. He had such an awful look on his face, one easily visible even from her distance. Again, she couldn’t look away, but the effects lasted for a shorter period of time. The singing, which had briefly hit a decrescendo, now swelled, drawing her attention. Finally, she spotted the source. It was another of the Fëanorians, fighting sadly among the rest.

He was short, more so than many of the elves, but the dark blue aura around him made him appear much larger. He was moving swiftly, faster than any elf near him, and his motions fluid. She could see his mouth open with song, moving to the rhythm. It was hypnotic. Where she had stared at the others in fear, she stared at him with awe. She couldn’t tear her eyes away for a long, long time, not until she nearly pitched forward off the roof she was crouching on. Shaking her head and gaining her wits, she surveyed the battle again.

She noticed many of the elves had the same reaction to these glowing behemoths as her: they were staring, open-mouthed, trying to recover before it was too late. The closer they were to the epicenter of battle, the more likely they were to be fighting. This was true in all cases, except those around the singing swordsman. Those elves seemed to be lowering their weapons, standing still, even collapsing despite having no visible injuries. All of them were moving slowly, making the already quick Fëanorian seem faster. She could hear what he was saying still, and it was a song of lament and pain, now, for what was happening. Each elf he cut down seemed to be lowering their weapons anyway, and there was a great pain on his face. She looked on bitterly. What was he so sad about? He could have chosen not to do this, to leave them all alone. Never mind whatever stupid oath they had all taken. Still… His song was burning into her mind, and she felt a lump form in her throat. Was this sympathy, for that kinslayer? It was preposterous.

Ascadina lightly climbed down from the roof, walking forward. They would need her in battle. She had to protect those still left behind in their homes, hiding from the dreaded force of the incoming army. From the looks of it, no one would be able to stop the Fëanorians before they had killed the whole place. At least she had been able to break the singing one’s spell over her before she had even been in the battle. Perhaps that would give her the edge needed to kill him first. She could hear his song even now, but it didn’t slow her steps. If no one else could rise to the challenge, she would.

Meeting the edges of battle, she spotted the blue aura rising from the singing Fëanorian again. His song wasn’t affecting her, but she was far away yet. Those nearest to him were still slowing down the closer they got to his song. They were almost even allowing him to kill them. The effect was disturbing, made somehow sweeter by the music.

In between her and him was one of the other children of Fëanor, one with a dark black fire-like aura rising around him, and many elves fighting on his side. The Doriathrin elves around him looked grim, their swords seeming heavier than they were used to. Ascadina began to push herself into the fight, hoping to slip past this conflict and into the one with the blue aura. She felt she could do more there, was maybe the _only_ one there who could do more. The nearest conflict looked as though it may be resolved soon anyway, as the elf at the epicenter of the black aura was beginning to show signs of tiring. His aura wasn’t blazing quite as strong, and he had his head tilted as though listening to the music. Ascadina got past easily, although she did have to fight a few elves to do it.

Her kin’s blood fresh on her hands and a hollow ringing in her ears, she stepped within the far-reaching aura of the blue one. It was like stepping into the eye of a hurricane. All she could hear was the song. All she could see were frozen or slow-moving elves. At the center was the one causing it all, dancing fluidly. The singing elf cut down another of her kind, someone she had seen on the street many a time before, and flashed around to catch another. He was moving so fast, far faster than Ascadina had realized. Or perhaps it was just impossible to believe someone could be moving at all within this calm. Still, Ascadina didn’t feel as though she was falling under his spell. She swung her sword and was delighted to see it was as quick as ever. She wouldn’t be bewitched by the singing. She could do this. Taking a breath, she stepped closer.

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She spun, sword flashing, but saw a familiar face. It was another citizen of Doriath, but not someone whose name she knew. Her sword lowered.

“Don’t,” he said softly, eyes unfocused.

She pulled her arm free. “You’re under his spell. Get ahold of yourself!”

“You can’t stop his song.”

Ascadina stepped between the ellon and the singing kinslayer, trying to make his eyes focus on her. She shook him, but he pushed her away.

“Don’t remove the only soft thing here today.”

“He’s killing your friends! Your family!”

The ellon shook his head. “He took an oath.”

“That doesn’t excuse this, not by far.” Ascadina turned, disgusted, and caught the eye of the kinslayer.

He had cleared space around him, almost as if he had been preparing for her. And his eyes… She hadn’t noticed the blue glow reflected from his eyes before, soft and gentle, peering into her own. He lowered his sword, and she stepped forward. His sword lifted again.

His song was now aimed at her, but she was almost certain he wasn’t aware he was singing. It sounded as a song a child would sing while distracted, but far more captivating and polished. He sang to her of the happiness that was left behind, and the hope that it would someday return. He sang of Valinor and an end to the pain. Ascadina wasn’t fazed. She raised her sword to meet his challenge.

And as their blades clashed together, she found herself looking into his eyes again. He could sing a song of fear, she realized. A song to paralyze orcs where they stood as he cut them down. But he was being soft, easing her into it, into her own death. There was no way around what he had to do…

_No!_ Ascadina stepped backward, barely avoiding the swipe of the elf’s sword. He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to kill so many.

The tip of her sword was shaking. She was afraid. She knew now that there was no way to beat this elf, not on her own. She glanced around, but there was no one else to help her. They had all been swayed by the song, not even advancing upon the singing ellon anymore. It was just her, and she’d have to do…

She attacked again, but his every word slowed her blade and made his slice quicker. She was afraid of dying, and her chance to live was slipping away. She looked into his eyes once more, and calm flooded over her. His words promised a better paradise, a place where needless bloodshed could be avoided. He gently nudged her sword away, and it fell from her hand. She was frozen in fear, still, but also in peace. She knew this was the end for her. She saw some of the elves around her able to move into action again, but still slowly, still without hope to win. She looked into the singing ellon’s eyes.

_Makalaurë_.

She closed her eyes and felt his sword sink into her, and then she knew no more of her physical form.


End file.
